What it is like when people love you.

It is like getting so many phone calls and so many e-mails from the moment you're out of bed (and even before) that you can't even get back to everyone in the same day.

It is like not even minding having to go to the doctor.

It is like driving down a country highway in a high sunny evening with cows and calves grazing in the fields, and getting to play your favorite songs because the person driving the car wants to sing along too and your tastes are not dissimilar.

It is like laughing until your gut hurts and hurts and you think your face can't stretch into that grin anymore but then finding out that it can.

It is like suspecting that perhaps something shady is going on when the person driving the car keeps making cell phone calls, particularly as you near your destination, but then suspecting that your suspicion is unfounded because people love her too.

It is like finding that even trying to find a parking place at the weird Town Centre mall is more fun when you're in good company. (Also, when you're not the one driving the car.)

It is like walking into a restaurant and discovering that the person who drove you to dinner also, incredibly, assembled a crack team of your other favorite people (who live in this area) and got them all to get themselves to the restaurant, and that they've all been waiting for you and are all there to overeat and celebrate the fact that you're another year older.

It is like knowing that those people, and that celebration, are just the tip of the iceberg, and that both tip and berg are beautiful beyond expression. Hence the similes. (Hence your exhaustion.) Hence the need for a more detailed, postscripting and illustrated writing tomorrow.

It is like knowing that you couldn't have chosen another single word more appropriate than you did, yesterday, because it is like feeling humble, so humble, and so very grateful.